Safe Harbor
by July '91
Summary: Living in Boston with a cousin that's about as overprotective as her father was never in Angie Hoyt's life plans. And yet, there she was. After a disastrous night on duty in a Chicago ER, Angie finds herself whisked away to Boston to heal and maybe -just maybe- start a new life. NigelOC, Romance, Drama, Humor.
1. First Day Clothes

**A/N –** Nigel deserves love. Definitely a lot more of it than he got from the writers. This story started out as a really ridiculously bad first chapter back in 2006, before I knew how to write characters with flaws. I rewatched the series a couple of times this year and rewrote the whole thing from scratch. It's my first full fic written in third person (totally out of my comfort zone, if you know me), and it also handles characters that are nearer and dearer to my heart than some members of my family. It's a total leap posting this online, but I'm hoping that I'm not the only one who misses the gang and wants Nigel happy.

Now, without further babbling, please enjoy the story…

* * *

**1 - First Day Clothes**

* * *

_The world was a blur. Nothing seemed to be in focus as Woody paced down the hallway briskly. He was vaguely aware of various announcements over the loudspeaker and hospital personnel brushing past him, but he couldn't quite process much of anything past that._

_The only thing in his mind right now was a room number, and the fact that somehow Angie had been shot._

* * *

Angie Hoyt took a deep breath as she smoothed down her shirt. She had been used to scrubs for so long, that the form-fitting button-up shirt and pencil skirt felt surprisingly confining. She knew that she had practically no reason to be so nervous. The residency was hers, but first days always made her skittish, even if she already knew almost everyone at the morgue from Pogue Mahone.

The elevator seemed to move at a sluggish pace as Angie gripped the railing, feeling the smooth grain of the wood beneath her palms. The reflective metal doors slid open and the image they displayed of Angie gave way to show a woman of equal height, with auburn hair and welcoming, grey-blue eyes. Lily smiled as the doors disappeared.

'Hey! I was hoping I'd catch you before you got going. What do you say to the unofficial orientation?' Lily said, taking Angie by the arm as she walked out of the elevator.

'Is it any more fun than the official one?' Angie asked, beginning to feel her nervousness melt away in the glow of Lily's warmth.

'I can guarantee it.'

Around fifteen minutes later Angie had met a good portion of the clerical staff and learned all the kinks in operating the coffee machine, despite the fact that she didn't actually drink coffee.

'Trust me, this will all come in way more handy than you'd think,' Lily had said. She was in the midst of telling Angie something along the lines of who to go to with various work-related dilemmas, when a distinguished, if scruffy, head with closely-cropped hair and an increasingly receding hairline poked into the room.

'Hey, if you two are done with the pajama party, Bug is waiting for Angie to assist. She does have work to do here, you know.' Just as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone. Lily shot Angie a wry smile as they both rose from their seats in the main break room.

* * *

'The deceased is is a female, mid-twenties, has uniform contusions along the waist and chest characteristic of the victim's seatbelt,' Bug spoke aloud to the recording device on the table a few feet away. His voice was calm and monotone, his english accented but perfectly enunciated.

Angie nervously skittered about, helping where she could and observing everything as closely as possible. Bug worked slowly, methodically, but efficiently. Angie was sure that he didn't enjoy her hovering over his work, but he was careful not to let it show. She appreciated his efforts, and tried her best to stay out of his way until he needed her.

Bug continued to talk out loud as he went through the process of the autopsy. Angie's nerves calmed as she fell into the routine of watching Bug's movements, predicting when he'd need her to hand him a tool or assist in the autopsy itself. Before she knew it, Bug was stitching up the woman's chest. He walked over to the table by the wall and switched off the recorder.

'And that about does it,' Bug said, turning back toward the resident. She smiled.

'Thank you for being so patient with me Doctor-' Angie paused. She had met Bug before, briefly, but no one ever called him by anything besides his unusual moniker. He put up a hand.

'Bug is perfectly fine,' he replied with a small, dry smile. Angie nodded, her smile lingering on her lips.

'Well, thank you for letting me assist, Bug.'

Bug nodded his acknowledgement and turned to leave the autopsy room. Angie followed him, her pumps clicking on the polished floor. She made a face at her first-day clothes, and longed for the day when she could wear something a little more casual once she settled in. She heard the door swing shut behind her just as her phone let out an abrupt tone.

Angie made her way down the hall as she fished her phone out of the pocket of her lab coat. She smiled. It was a text from Moira. Angie knew that Moira was dying to see how life in Boston was treating her. She smiled, missing Moira already. Angie had seen her just a few days before when she had flown to Chicago to sort out the last of her affairs, but they had been roommates all during school and in all the time since. It was hard enough starting a whole new life even without leaving her best friend behind. Angie tried to send her friend a short message back as she continued down the hall, her thumbs struggling over the keypad as she walked.

Suddenly, she was jolted out of her train of thought as she bumped into someone, sending her phone flying through the air and clattering to the ground. Getting her bearings, she looked up at her partner in collision, who had picked up her phone, and with a soft click was deftly replacing the battery that had popped out after it hit the ground. Her gaze was greeted with a familiar toothy grin.

'If you wanted to knock me off my feet, all you had to do was buy me a drink, love,' Nigel said with a wink, handing Angie her phone back. She took it with a thankful smile.

'I think maybe you should do the buying. You know us residents, we don't have two cents to rub together,' Angie replied, slipping her phone back into her pocket. Nigel flung an arm around her shoulder and walked down the hall with her.

'Well, since it is your first day and all, I may take you up on that offer,' he said. Nigel was at least a head taller than her, and she had to crane her neck slightly to look him in the eye when he stood this close.

'After all the paperwork that I'm headed for, a drink might be nice. Is everyone going to Max's tonight?'

'I'm not sure,' Nigel said, tucking a strand of his straight, black hair behind his ear, 'but you know the gang. Blasted drunks, the lot of them.'

Angie laughed, letting herself be carried down the hall by Nigel's enthusiasm like a wave carries a cork.

* * *

'Surprise!'

Letting out a laugh as she walked into the bar, Angie waited just inside for Woody to follow her in.

'This was you, wasn't it?' Angie asked as her cousin gave her a light hug, mindful of her left shoulder.

'Don't look at me, Ange, this was Jordan's idea.'

'Seriously?' A hint of incredulity came through in Angie's voice.

'Well, you're officially doomed now, the least we can do is buy you a couple of drinks,' a voice said from behind her. Angie turned to face Jordan, who also gave her a quick embrace before following her to the bar.

A quick survey of the room showed the usual crowd: Nigel, Bug, Lily, and Macy, in addition to Jordan and Woody. Of course, Max was behind the bar, and behind the large group was a new guy that had only been coming around the last couple of weeks. Paul, or maybe Peter. Something like that.

Gratitude settled into Angie as she realized that Jordan must have used some pull to get everyone here. As much as she had talked to Nigel and Lily during her time at the bar and her general stay in Boston, she hadn't had a chance to get to know Bug or Macy much, and the guy in the back was practically a stranger. This was a welcome party, and Jordan wanted it to be a good one.

'So, what do you think?' Jordan asked, her patented mischievous smirk spread over her dark, graceful features.

'I'm thinking I probably owe you one,' Angie replied, mirroring Jordan's expression. Jordan chuckled.

'Or three,' she joked.

'I'll just have to give you my firstborn.'

'Nah, I don't have any change on me.'

* * *

_Woody shifted uncomfortably, his fists clenched at his sides._

_'What happened?' he asked, looking over Angie's exhausted form laying in the hospital bed. Angie winced as she tried to sit up a little straighter, and Woody felt a pang of anger and worry flash through him._

_'There was... this guy that came into the ER... he had a gun on him somewhere...' she took labored breaths between clunky groups of words, 'I don't know what happened...' a breath, 'he grabbed me when I... turned for a syringe...'_

_Woody couldn't take anymore. 'Don't worry, Ange, we can talk about it later. You need to rest.'_

_Angie nodded sleepily. It looked like the pills her nurse had given her were finally kicking in. She leaned back and was asleep in minutes._

* * *

**A/N –** I know I've dropped the OC right into the gang, but the flashbacks at the beginning and end of each chapter will continue, so you'll see how they all got together. Please review and tell me your thoughts. Reviews keep me going even more than coffee.


	2. Manos

2 - Manos

* * *

_'I'm not sure you've thought this through, Woody,' Angie said, spoonful of Jello midway to her mouth. Woody stifled a chuckle at the sight of her._

_'You said yourself you needed perspective,' he insisted, a smile lighting up his boyish features. Angie set the spoon down and took a breath._

_'When I said "perspective," I wasn't exactly talking about going a thousand miles away.' Angie spoke carefully, like one would speak to an excited schoolchild whose dreams you didn't want to dash._

_'Just stay with me for a few weeks. It'll be worth it, I promise.'_

* * *

Angie walked into the lab and immediately tilted her head in amused bewilderment. A screen and projector were set up, and a film was playing.

'Are you watching _Manos: The Hands of Fate_?' she asked, completely forgetting about the file in her hands. Nigel's head poked up over various equipment, grinning. His hair was half pinned back, keeping it out of his angular features.

'Why, yes I am. Gearing up for midnight movie madness at the cineplex this weekend. Care to join?'

Angie chuckled. 'I would, but the sheer horribleness of _Manos_ got me through late-night study sessions for years, and we have a bit of a love/hate relationship now. Maybe sometime when I'm not holding a folder full of entry wound closeups.'

'It's a date,' Nigel said, switching off the projector and coming over to look into the pale yellow folder Angie it into his own hands, quite a bit larger than Angie's, he opened it and whistled. 'Well, well. That's a nasty stab wound. That tearing around the entry...'

Angie looked up at Nigel expectantly, who had paused for effect. 'So? What did it?' she asked impatiently. Nigel slapped the file shut dramatically and handed it back. He leaned forward.

'Power drill,' he said finally. Angie gasped in both revulsion and utter fascination. She was starting to notice that the longer he worked at the morgue, the ratio of those two feelings tipped. Two weeks ago, it was probably seventy percent revulsion. Today, it was probably closer to forty percent. Angie tried not to let the rate of that change bother her.

'Oh, ouch. Power drill to the chest,' Angie said, admiring the photos with a new sense of awe. 'Who does that?'

'Based on the size, I'd say it was a wood bit, but I'd have to look at some body scans to be sure.'

Angie shook her head, smiling. 'How do you do it, Nige?'

Nigel's grin grew. 'Incomprehensible genius.'

Angie laughed and rolled her eyes, elbowing Nigel lightly in the ribs. Although, because of their difference in height, she hit a bit lower than her target. Behind them, the door swung open.

'Ange!' Jordan cried, making the duo turn to face her. 'Come on, we got a date with the Mystery Machine.'

* * *

Angie slammed the van door behind her and followed Jordan down an alley and under the police tape. Her eyes darted around, trying to take as much of the scene in as possible.

'What have we got, Woody?' Jordan asked, her long hair strapped up in a messy bun.

'Woman, early twenties. Her name is Rachel Markus. It looks like she was strangled, but we don't have a weapon. Perp might have just did it the old fashioned way, gone barehanded.' Woody tucked his small notebook into his suit jacket as Jordan kneeled down to inspect the body. Angie took pictures as she went, furrowing her eyebrows in concentration as she watched Jordan work.

The woman that was crumpled against the wall couldn't have been older than twenty-five. She had long, sandy brown hair with lighter highlights and was dressed in a sparkly magenta cocktail dress that looked too expensive for this part of town. She had been wearing four inch, dark pink stilettos when she died, but in the struggle, one of the designer shoes had been kicked off further down the alley.

'Did she live in the building?' Jordan asked, looking up at the brick building looming up in front of her. The alley they were all standing in was framed by an aging apartment building on one side and a kosher deli on the other.

'She didn't, but the people in the building knew her. Apparently her boyfriend lives here. Things had been rocky with them the past few months since the boyfriend's father moved in, but that's all I've got. She didn't have a license on her.'

Jordan looked up from the body and glanced around for a moment. 'Ange, you notice anything off?'

Angie dropped the camera gently and it hit her chest, swinging silently from the neckstrap. Looking around, she glanced over the girl's body and he expensive clothes.

'She looks like she was going on a date, or maybe a party. Nice dress, fancy shoes... but no purse?' Angie asked, tilting her head. Woody blinked at Angie.

'Is that important?' he asked, clicking his pen. Angie and Jordan shared a smirk.

'No lipstick?'

'No money?'

'No protection?'

'No license?' Jordan finished.

'If you two break into song, I'm leaving,' Woody replied, shooting the two women a flat look.

'The point is, sounds like the makings of a pretty boring night,' Jordan concluded, going back to her ruminations over the young woman's remains.

'You think the killer took it with him?' Angie asked, kneeling beside Jordan. Jordan nodded in reply.

'Somebody did.'

Woody dug out his notebook again and jotted down a few brief notes, shaking his head, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

'Lividity's consistent with the placement of the body,' Jordan continued, 'and it looks like she's been dead for at least four hours. I'll get a more accurate time of death when I get her back to the morgue.'

Angie sighed. 'No time like the present.'

* * *

'She was definitely strangled with bare hands,' Jordan said, examining Rachel's neck. Angie leaned in, and she could clearly see the shadows of a person's hands in the bruises that wrapped around the girl's neck.

'Sounds impulsive,' Angie muttered, almost to herself. Jordan nodded in agreement.

'You thinking the boyfriend?' she asked. Angie shrugged.

'I'm thinking it's a pretty good bet. The neighbors said the relationship was slipping, maybe he wanted to break it off a little more... permanently.'

'Or maybe _she_ wanted it over, and he couldn't take it,' Jordan countered. 'He was starting to lose control of his life. His father just moved in with him, his relationship was spiraling out of control, but this...' she gestured toward the body, 'he could control.'

'Sounds like we need to talk to the boyfriend,' Angie said finally. Jordan responded with a mischievous smirk.

'Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,' she replied.

* * *

'I'll have the club,' Woody told the server, watching as the teenage boy wrote the order down.

'The reuben for me,' Angie said. She watched the server as he scribbled her order and walked away. He was lanky with shaggy dark hair, and he reminded her of Woody at that age. She smiled as she thought back to Wisconsin and growing up with Woody. They had always been at odds as to their vision of the future: Woody idealized their upbringing, while Angie craved city life. How they both ended up in the same place after so many years was still a mystery to her.

'So, how's the morgue treating you?' Woody asked, bringing Angie back to reality. She let out a soft laugh.

'There's a question you don't hear every day.'

Woody narrowed his eyes. 'You're changing the subject.'

Angie shrugged her right shoulder. 'I'm liking it a lot more than I thought I would.' Her voice was tinged with curiosity at her own statement. Woody took note of Angie's lopsided shrug, and he held back a frustrated sigh. Even after devoting his life to upholding the law, he couldn't protect the ones he loved. He tried to sweep those thoughts away for a moment.

'Yeah, it'll do that to you,' he replied, trying not to seem distracted.

'It actually bothers me that it doesn't... bother me,' Angie rambled, peeling the paper napkin from around her silverware and twisting it absent-mindedly.

'It's easy not to focus on the morbid part when you're working with these people,' Woody replied, from experience. Angie let a small smile creep over her face, letting her napkin unravel.

'That's true enough.'

* * *

_Woody watched as Angie slept in the hospital bed, her left shoulder was bandaged up and her arm was in a sling. The most he had gotten out of her was that she was treating a guy for a bullet wound and he attacked her. When she managed to wriggle free, he shot her in the shoulder. He looked down at his shoes and sighed._

_Woody's entire body was tense; clenched in rage and helplessness. The happy tone that he kept when Angie was awake was wearing him down._

_'You really need to relax, Woods,' Angie's voice came from the bed, low and weary. Woody plastered on a smile before looking up to meet his cousin's gaze._

_'Morning, sunshine,' he said, upbeat. Angie scoffed._

_'You're such an easy read.'_

_Woody shot her a sarcastic, unamused smirk. Angie smiled fondly at him and let out a soft sigh._

_'Would you feel better if I came to stay with you in Boston for a while?'_

_Woody's shoulders visibly relaxed and a genuine smile lit up his youthful face._

_'Oh, God, yes.'_

* * *

A/N - Another chapter up! School just started for me so there was a lag in posting, but it'll be more regular from here on out. Please review! Let me know how I'm doing. ;)


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